Hugh Grant has revealed how absolutely boring the Oscars are and, essentially, always have been.
His monotone one-word answers and eye-roll at the end were perfect. As he pushed through the agonizing interview (“Who are you wearing?” They still ask that Joan Rivers inane question? I’m wearing a fucking suit, not a person, get your pronouns right or you’ll get the cancelling stick!) peacocks preened behind him.
One peacock took a shit on the stage and was immediately given an Oscar for “Best Shit in a Comedy/Western/Docu-drama, or Short-Form Animation”. Then the peacock bit the hand that fed it some fame, and took another shit as it ran for its life while being chased by a drive-by shooting (this is still America, after all).
An unknown woman, possibly an actress, had a wardrobe malfunction and fire fighters were called to bring in the Jaws ‘O Life to pry open her stainless steel kimono.
An actor dressed as the part he played in a movie showing how war is bad, Hollywood is vain, and Russia is a bitch of a country ripped his pants after smearing his lipstick on a kiss that went into the outfield and landed on a donkey.
The donkey received an Oscar for “Best Kiss By A Human and/or Non-Human.”
Vampires ate necks and drank blood, which is how deals are made in Tinsel Town, and then illegal orgies were held in all the mansions, and somebody will soon be sued and possibly imprisoned next to Harvey Weinstein … who is still making money behind bars. (Every time you watch a Tarantino movie, or anything else captured beneath the Weinstein banner …)
Rich people were given awards by other rich people for playing poor people. I think I said that once before, but it’s the Oscars – like taxes and cancer, they happened every year and there’s fuck all you can do to stop them.
Well, you have better chances surviving cancer than the Oscars, but there’s no chemo for award shows.
PS: I didn’t actually watch the bloody thing, didn’t see a single movie, haven’t seen one in years and I feel fine. But I sure did love that donkey!
